


duty-drowned

by asiren (meliorismo)



Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25028878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meliorismo/pseuds/asiren
Summary: having a brother: the aftermath.
Relationships: Arthur Curry & Orm Marius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	duty-drowned

**Author's Note:**

> i love aquaman and i love siblings relationships. gen fics rules

Growing up alone, Arthur always wanted a sibling. He used to dream all the time, eyes wide open, about the day he would find not only his mother but also someone else, preferably close to his age but not exactly a deal breaker if it wasn’t, maybe a boy but could be a girl too, someone to share the little things that made him too weird for the other kids. He read so eagerly all the books that had siblings on them… Watched all the movies, sang along to all the songs. And while he learned over time not everyone got along with their siblings, he never thought that it would happen to _him._ After all, he wanted them so much, he would do _anything._

(How can you hate someone who would give you the sun?)

**i. king**

Orm was the current king of Atlantis, and that was fact number one. The very first thing that could be associated with him: royalty, crowns and thrones. Fact number two: he was determined to start a war out of sheer stubbornness and unrelentless paranoia. Fact number three: couldn’t be reasoned with. He was dangerous to everyone, humans and merfolk alike. He was raised by a maniac who killed his own wife. He was unable to see any point of view besides his own. 

Fact number four: Orm was also Arthur’s baby brother. 

Growing up, for all the things Arthur read and watched and heard and sang, for all the days he spent looking into an imaginary future with an invented family, he never thought to associate _genocide_ with his brother. Maybe he should’ve had. Maybe, in all those hypothetical lives, there should have been at least one that came closer to the reality of Orm. 

But, in the end, there wasn’t. And Arthur ended up with the world’s worst surprise. 

He wanted to scream, _please don’t do this!_ He wanted to yell, _just listen to me!_ He wanted to curve into a ball and cry himself to death, which was a _very_ new feeling. He wanted to press rewind and find Orm before someone convinced him that the only way to live was making war. He wanted to chain himself to his mother’s wrist and leave with her when she did. He wanted to be there when Orm was a child, because then maybe things would make some sort of sense. 

More than anything else, he wanted things to be like he dreamed they would be. Warm and nice and good always. 

**ii. prisoner**

While it was true that Arthur said they would talk when Orm was ready to, he couldn’t bear to wait. Anyone could’ve said that patience wasn’t his strong suit, and it only got worse when it was about something that Arthur _wanted_ so much, _ached_ to have. A brother. What a concept. The incarnation of a dream in the form of a homicidal prince. 

He visited Orm every day. 

Arthur just couldn’t help himself. 

It wasn’t like Orm was glad for the company. Hell, he wasn’t even pleased. Anyone looking at him would be sure that he would rather rot to death alone and forgotten than have to listen to one more word coming out of Arthur’s mouth. Still, Arthur couldn’t stop. He was unable. Vaguely unstable. He would drop anything the second Orm said the word. He would let him out of that cell if he just said I’m sorry. He was so far gone, he loved him so much, loved who he was, loved the idea of him, everything, he couldn’t stand it. Still, Orm never said anything, and things carried on as it had since they saw each other for the first time. 

Arthur hated to be king. 

**iii. interlude**

There were many times, growing up, that Orm stopped resenting this brother he never met and thought about him the same way someone would think about the friend of a friend that they didn’t know very well. It was this vaguest sense of familiarity, the wonder about what made them so special. What they had in common, to end up friends with the same person. The idea that, if they tried hard enough, they could get along too. As the years went by, these moments got fewer and fewer, and died completely when this only thing they shared, this same mother, left the world. 

**iv. stranger**

One day, almost randomly, Orm asked to see him. He said to the guards, _Go get the king._ They didn’t want to obey, of course, that crazy prince who almost got them all killed and possibly didn’t care about anyone but himself, but Arthur had said many times that if Orm finally wanted to talk then he would hear it. The meanest side of the court thought this straight up pathetic, and the nicest said that it was sad, the things someone would do for their family. Arthur was deaf to these words. He wouldn’t tolerate them in his presence. Soon, the voices stopped echoing, and became whispered sounds behind his back. 

Atlanna, when asked, didn’t have an opinion on the matter. She said that she had a sister, long ago, and that she never liked when people meddled on their affairs. Apparently, this sister was very much like Orm, and so Atlanna stayed out of Arthur’s attempts at building a relationship, and Orm’s stubborn determination in mining the field around himself. 

Arthur stopped in front of Orm’s cell, looking tentatively hopeful, and told his brother, _They said you wanted to see me._ Orm nodded. He only said two words, and they were clear, if a little begrudgingly. _I’m sorry._

Any other person would get suspicious, or at the very least ruled it not enough to release a prisoner as dangerous as Orm, former king, admittedly not above murder, and known betrayer. Still, Arthur only said, _Okay,_ and told the guards to let his brother out. And that, as they say, was that. 

**v. [reluctantly] brother**

They walked alongside Atlanna in the garden of the palace; she was soft under the waterlight, pastel purple gown floating around her. A mermaid. A fairytale. It was strange, to both Orm and Arthur, having a mother. They had one for such a small amount of time, and then she was gone, possibly forever. The weirdest feeling, one day orphaned, motherless, and the other… not. 

She left their company, eventually, taken away by some royal matters. Arthur let her bear the weight of most of the responsibilities of actually leading the kingdom, something that put Orm absolutely insane. It was made worse because Arthur was sure Orm he knew that, in another life, Arthur would give it all to him, instead. He could have been king. Even in title, that was how little Arthur cared about it and how much he cared about Orm. Now, though, it was much too late. 

He sighed. 

Arthur wanted to ask what Orm was thinking, but didn’t. It wasn’t rare; wasn’t unusual. He spent most of his time wishing he could crack his brother’s skull open and see what was hiding inside; what thoughts and feelings were lurking around the corners, hiding under the table. What he was plotting. 

(Because he _was_ plotting. Arthur wasn’t stupid). 

_Should we go back?,_ he asked, instead. Orm nodded, absently, and walked beside him into this castle, this home they shared underwater. _Baby steps,_ Arthur thought, watching the sun set behind some vegetation. One day they would be family again.

Because of that, Arthur was finally sure. And it was enough for him.


End file.
